Come now, child
by TacoDao
Summary: Now, who in their right mind would ever want to grow old and stay that way. Wouldn't it be funner to just stay young? At least for a little while?


_**A/N:  
**This'll be an Austria/Switzerland story,  
Austria/Hungary mentioned.  
Setting is slightly in the middle of WWII._

Please, Enjoy.

---

They say to be careful what you wish for. What a cliché. Vash would often laugh at the saying, finding all the stories about the phrase to be cocky and overused. Anyhow, everyone knows that nothing can really _grant _wishes. Though, Arthur may think otherwise, but when was the last time anyone listened to that deranged alcoholic? But wishes were always good for fun; and seemed to be very emotional little bundles of hope at times. Times like when you lay upon your bed, alone, and reminisce about your past. Reminds you a bit like what Vash was doing currently. The poor Swiss convienently bumped into his childhood friend, Roderich, at the grocery store earlier that day. What an awkward moment for the shy, yet aggressive man. His face was hot and red as the tomatoes in the next isle over. They had lunch together, which was pleasant- up until Gilbert popped out of the bushes and ruined the nice moment.

Vash sighs, a wonderful memory passes and another one just as pleasant comes along. A sad smile slowly creeps onto his face, a face grown old and weary from all the change that has occurred over the years.

Just then, slyly, icy cold fingers began playing with the stings of Vash's sanity. Climbing the sensitive ropes till they could run their chilling prickly fingertips across the keen heart of the Swiss'. The raw feeling on his heart causing his body go into a minor depression. His smile dancing away from his face and a frown slid over as if atop of smooth glass.

The memories caused him to wish. Wish he was back in his happy times. To wish, "...I was young again."

He knew it was a dry hope, that he would never be his younger, and possibly even nicer, self. Nevertheless, the boy was to quick. Never stopping to smell the flowers or trying to be optomistic. Never basking in the joy of just being alive. It didn't even pass his mind that someone was listening to him. The angel in the corner put on a playful face as the Swiss began slipping into a deep slumber. He brought out his wand and floated over; pearly-white, feathered wings shining in the moonlight. He flicked his wand over the sleeping blond's head. A small twinkle was all that could be heard at the moment.

Changes overcame the Swiss as he slept peacefully.

---

The sun shined brightly through the windows, causing shadows to form and rays to fal on everything. Including the face of an unsuspecting Vash. The boy groaned as he shifted, half-awake. He snuggled up to the pink cloth he lay on, finding it to be very soft and comfortable. Yet, to his dismay, his alarm clock when off, making his eyes to flutter open and glare at the evil mechanism that sat on the counter opposite of him. The counter seemed to be farther away then he remembered. He shut his eyes and reached over for the clock, finally successfullyturning it off. He jumped out of bed, all the obstacles in his way were blurry to him at the moment. He nudges open the door and continues to walk, almost tripping several times while he walked down the stairs. Eventually, he smells something appetizing. Vash rubs the sleep out of his eyes and looks around- he gasped slightly.

Everything was huge. Not huge as in colossal, but huge as in his head just barely reached over the seat of the chair. Frantic, he ran to the bathroom. Flushed to find that he couldn't reach the mirror. The blond then climbs up onto the toilet and hops onto the sink, catching himself before falling. He looked into the mirror; his heart skipped a beat or two.

There, staring back at him, was a young version of our very own Vash Zwingili. His bright blond hair was askew everywhere and his face was slightly dirty. His young, innocent eyes bored into the exact same ones in the mirror. Grassy green eyes looked down to see small nimble hands and even smaller fingers. The youth moved his digits, as if testing them out for the first time. He eventually brought the soft hand up to his face, his eyes once again looking at his reflection. Velvety fingers skimmed across the slightly red face, over the nose, and back to the opposite side. Peach-pink lips separated ever so slightly, letting but the littlest amount of air into the child's small lungs.

He fell backwards, unconscious.

After what Vash guessed was thirty-minutes, he awoke from his accidental nap. Mumbling a quiet, "My head hurts where I hit it." Not quite the most intelligent saying you would hear from the Swiss.

He lifted himself onto his feet, head hurting slightly, and walked to the door. Finding it much more difficult to reach the doorknob then usual. He opened the door and walked out into the long hallways. He took short strides as he walked down the never-ending hallway. Soon enough, he reached the front room. His front door towered over his small figure. Frowning and looking at the ground, he opened the door. His little white dress flew like water in the wind. With that, he stepped outside. His head hung, face flushed with a beautiful shade of scarlet. He walks down the few pairs of steps and walks onto the sidewalk. That was when he looked up at the beautiful scenery. A few of his people walked past him, none paying any attention to him, which the small blond was fine with- he wanted to be ignored at the moment. He followed his memory and occasionally his feet, not exactly knowing where he was headed.

_'What happened to me?' _He thought as his feet made quick, quiet pitter-patters across the sidewalk. To be honest, he felt very much alone. He wanted someone with him, to comfort him. He was afraid, he didn't know if he was going to ever get turned back into his normal self ever again. Or if this change in his body had affected his wonderful country. His frowned deepened on his wonderfully smooth face. So many questions weaved themselves into his poor confused brain; straining him and making his head hurt even worse.

And to his surprise, tears began to fall from his bright green eyes.

They were childish, alligator tears- no reason behind any of them. He wiped them away with his sleeve, furious that his body even allowed that. His eye-brows knotted and he sucked up the rest of the tears, walking faster this time. His legs beginning to hurt, he was relievedto find that he came to a halt. He looked up, eyes filled with curiosity scanned the area. The place only looked slightly familiar, he enjoyed the look of the house. It looked fancy and nice, it gave off a soothing aurora. He had walked up towards the porch when he heard a recognizable voice from behind him, supposivley talking to someone else. He jumped in some bushes not too far away and watched silently as his childhood friend, now older, walk by with Elizaveta by his side. Very close to his side. Vash shot a devious glare at the woman, finding that whenever she came close to Roderich the poor Swiss' heart would ache. Disliking the feeling, he blamed it on the red-head. Vash concluded that he was alergic to Hungarian women and since she was always around Austria- he never could be.

He watched closely as they walked into the house. Hungary's hand just barely skimming Austria's, yet the two were close enough to make Vash want to hurt her. Or at least call her some pretty bad names.

Switzerland bundled his little fists and made his way for the front door. Feeling a lot bigger then he surely was.


End file.
